


Perhaps

by tinywalder



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-17 22:50:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21501103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinywalder/pseuds/tinywalder
Summary: «I can’t have it any other way,» she explained. Why he’d decided to bring that up now all of a sudden, she couldn’t say, but there was so much that made more sense now that he’d told her of his observation. She laughed. «Is that why you looked at me so strangely the entire time?»___Jorah accompanies Daenerys as they walk home after dinner.
Relationships: Jorah Mormont/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 13
Kudos: 39





	Perhaps

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first (and probably last) fic I've decided to share with you! 
> 
> I'll admit I'm a bit nervous. But this thing just popped up in my head as I went to sleep one night, so I decided to write it. I really hope you like it.

«So no brothers or sisters?»

«None. But I do have a fair amount of cousins.»

The night was cold and damp. It had been raining earlier in the evening, and the streets were wet and slippery. The cobblestones reflected the lights along the road, and Dany made sure to stay away from the droplets slipping from the trees they walked past. Her heels were not a good fit for such an evening, so she clutched the steady arm of Jorah Mormont in order to keep her balance.

«Where are they now?» she asked.

«I suppose somewhere in the North.»

A touching subject, she knew, and therefore she thought it wise to avoid it. The bitter tone in his voice did not do much to conceal it either. Her street was coming up shortly anyway, so she thought she might as well come up with some parting words before they each went their separate ways.

«Did you enjoy dinner?»

Jorah smiled then, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked down at her. «I did. And you?»

«Yes.» She really had enjoyed herself this evening. There was an ease between them that she couldn’t exactly put a word on, but she had been decidedly more comfortable with him than any previous men she’d dated the last couple of years. _Not that this is a date or anything_ , she amended quickly. Jorah was her friend, a helping friend that had been there for her ever since she’d moved to this city. Her idea of offering him dinner was just her way of showing him her gratitude, somehow. He deserved more than that, she knew, but at that moment it had seemed like something he would appreciate.

«You like your food well cooked?»

«What?»

«Your food -,» he repeated, and then he seemed to hesitate. «I mean, you wanted your meat to be crisp. At first I thought that to be a ... normal preference, but then he came out with that black, burnt -»

«I can’t have it any other way,» she explained. Why he’d decided to bring that up now all of a sudden, she couldn’t say, but there was so much that made more sense now that he’d told her of his observation. She laughed. «Is that why you looked at me so strangely the entire time?»

«Partly,» he confessed.

Dany could see the stairs leading up to her building a few metres ahead. Suddenly she felt this urge to set up their pace. Her cheeks felt warm despite the chill of the evening.

«Study tomorrow?» he asked as he effortlessly matched her tempo.

«Probably. But I usually can’t bring myself to write anything on Sundays.»

«Oh?»

_Why did I tell him that?_

Jorah worked at a library a few blocks away, and Dany found the place to be preferable to the school’s library. It was quieter and smaller, but most of all she had come to realise that it held that peaceful lull she’d sought ever since her mother had passed away. It had been difficult to describe the sensation, but to her it felt like something she could call home, strangely enough.

And that was where she had found Jorah. The first time she went there, she’d tossed her bag unceremoniously into the nearest chair and brought her laptop life. She’d only had time to type a few words until his head had popped up around the corner of a bookshelf.

«I’m sorry, Miss, but that spot has been reserved for another customer. She’ll be here in ten minutes.»

She’d barely had time to think of this odd practice before Jorah had gathered her things and led her to another secluded area which soon would become her favorite spot in his dusty, creaky library. That day he’d brought her a cup of tea, and the next day he’d asked her about her studies. On the third day she’d found her table stacked with books and a freshly brewed tea waiting for her. Three heavy volumes, each of them an evident nod to the assignment she’d been working on. He’d even passed by several times that day, giving his thoughts on her work, and soon this had become a ritualistic affair as well. Some days he’d let her sit there after closing hours. Sometimes he would dash off to get them something to eat, or read through her assignments, or simply skim through some book while she typed away on her laptop.

Since then she’d spent most of her days there. But the library was closed on Sundays.

«I suppose I’ll plop down in front of the telly and order something to eat instead. That’s usually how those days go by.»

She realised suddenly that she’d unconsciously led them up the stairs to her building. The arm she’d had tangled in his snaked its way out of the crook of his elbow, her free hand going into her purse. Her keys were conveniently lost in a sea of litter.

Jorah had an amused look on his face as he watched her struggle. «I hope we can do this again sometime,» he said.

Dany felt her face redden again. «There they are!» She fished out her keys and displayed them victoriously. But her desperate search for a distraction was completely gone as she looked up; Jorah had pulled out his phone and specs, and had his eyes cast down at the lit up screen. The look on his face told her that she might have missed out on something. _Or perhaps I just didn’t want to see ..._

«What are you doing?» she asked.

«Looking for someone who can take me home.»

«Why?»

The question was out of her mouth before she could even think. The next seconds were crucial; she could just brush it off with a laugh, like she usually did. It was certainly tempting. _Perhaps I should just get inside before I do or say anything else stupid._

But then there was this look in his eyes. She’d seen it a couple of times before, briefly, before her own courage would abandon her and she couldn’t look him in the eye a second longer. It was too intense, too blatant, and she didn’t know how to respond to it.

Now she met his gaze unashamedly, not daring to look away.

_Perhaps I should see how he takes it. I owe him that much, at least._

But then again, why would she owe anyone anything? Life had treated her like a dog treats a squeaky toy. Why should she feel forced to do this? Because she felt sorry for him? Because she had never been able to say ‘no’ to anyone?

Perhaps that was the problem. Perhaps she deserved as much, to just take what she wanted and do what she wanted, no matter the consequences. Perhaps she should just take him in, without question, and just -

«It’s raining,» he said.

«It is?» Dany looked up. It was a bloody downpour, and she hadn’t noticed.

«And I think I would be better off if I ordered a taxi.»

She watched him again, and she saw a thousand, hopeful questions lingering on his face.

_Perhaps ..._

«Perhaps you would like some tea? I think I owe you that much.»

And it was yet another thing that this man gave her freely; she was rewarded with a broad smile, and she couldn’t come up with any reason to leave him outside any longer.

Her heart stuttered as he took a step forward, and for the first time ever he was so close that she could smell him properly. He smelled of leather bindings, paper and wine, but altogether it was a sweet smell.

He leaned in, and the hairs on her neck stood up as he whispered, «You don’t owe me anything, Daenerys.»

And then he pecked her cheek, an unexpected gesture which made her unlock the door.


End file.
